


Spring Shave

by VoidofRoses



Series: Domesticated Bliss [2]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Moomin is still embarrassed to be his husband even though they’ve been married like ten years, Snufkin and Moomin are both in their late forties, Snufkin gets rid of his winter fur, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, even things that turn you on?, fellas is it gay to fling jam at your husband for not telling you things?, genderfluid snufkin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 02:49:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidofRoses/pseuds/VoidofRoses
Summary: Some part of him would always be that boy waiting on the bridge outside of his parent’s house, ears eagerly listening for the sound of a mouth organ before he could see his very best friend coming back after three long months away. The fact that they were now married didn’t make a difference.Moomintroll gives Snufkin his yearly shave so that he doesn’t wind up looking too much like his father. Jam is flung.





	Spring Shave

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like doing a continuation of Coming Home so I decided to, this time slightly from Moomin’s POV the next day. Idk some part of me just kinda loves this kind of domestic fluff where they’re older and more comfortable. Yes the youth is fun to play around with but it’s also nice to write them being at ease with who they are.

Moomintroll woke the following morning, sunlight filtering through the bedroom curtains and the trees outside, dancing across the floor like fireflies. The covers were pulled all the way up to his chin, his eyes blinking blearily and his paw immediately drawing to the spot next to him.

Warm but cooling.

His heart gave a soft thrum when when he realised Snufkin’s return hadn’t been a dream, that somewhere in their cottage was his husband, and not months away on his annual trip south. Moomintroll buried his head against the pillow, then stretched and yawned as he sat up, glancing to where the door was open a crack.

“Snufkin?” he mumbled, rubbing at an eye before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, reaching for his apron sitting on the chair near the bed, partnered with a familiar green raincoat and hat. His ears twitched atop his head as he heard the sound of running water - not from the stream outside, but from inside the house. Running water was still relatively new in Moominvalley, their house one of the first to be installed since they built it.

He sighed a little, feeling relief lift his chest, and folded the apron over, tying it around his waist as he made his way to the kitchen.

Some part of him would always be that boy waiting on the bridge outside of his parent’s house, ears eagerly listening for the sound of a mouth organ before he could see his very best friend coming back after three long months away. The fact that they were now married didn’t make a difference. Walking past the bathing room, he stopped to listen, hearing the sound of Snufkin humming, and smiled despite himself before continuing on downstairs.

Getting out a pan and a mixing bowl, Moomintroll set about making Moominmamma’s pancake recipe, cracking an egg into the bowl and adding flour, butter and milk to it. It was, at the very least, the one thing that he was confident in cooking, though he was slowly getting less and less panicked whenever he did something different. Whisking it together, he barely registered the sound of footsteps behind him before arms slid around his belly and a nose buried itself in his neck.

“Mornin’, dove,” was the contented purr into his ear, feeling Snufkin’s tail slip into his.

He returned the nuzzle, turning his snout to rub it against the scruffy fur on the sides of his face before pressing their noses into a troll kiss. “You’re in a good mood,” he observed, letting Snufkin tilt his head back to find his mouth so they could kiss the mumrik way. “Have a good sleep?”

“Best sleep in months,” he responded, reaching down to detangle their tails before he pulled back, wandering over to the kitchen drawers. “You seen my razor?”

“Third drawer.” Moomintroll placed the batter down and turned, wiping his hands on his apron to watch Snufkin pull it out with an ‘ahah!’, followed by a pair of hair scissors. “Did you want some help?”

“Please,” he said, coming over to where Moomintroll was pulling a chair out from the kitchen table. “I can’t get the back quite right like you can.” His partner stepped away from there for a moment before grabbing the kitchen towel and gestured for Snufkin to sit before he draped it across the mumrik’s chest, holding his hand out for the scissors and razor.

They sat and stood in comfortable silence as Moomintroll trimmed Snufkin’s winter growth back, clipping the fur at the sides of his face before his ears and shaping the front. It was this kind of companionable silence that had Moomintroll start falling for him in the first place; when he and Snorkmaiden had been together, she had always needed to fill the air with talk, even about the little mundane things. She still did, but it was less about her own vanity or his handsomeness nowadays and more about actual advice and discussion.

Speaking of, he should visit her later today, or maybe tomorrow, but for now he put that thought aside and continued to snip away at the fur, untangling threads with his paws in lieu of an actual comb and gently trimming Snufkin’s three month growth down.

“There.” He set the razor and scissors down and wiped his paws on his apron as Snufkin raised a paw to the back of his head, feeling the short fur close to the nape of his neck. “See what you think.”

“Very well.” Snufkin folded the towel up from his chest and stood, handing it to his husband before stepping almost daintily around his fur clippings to go over to the mirror that they had hanging on the kitchen wall. He tilted his head this way and that, paw to his chin as he did so before he turned to try to see the fur and hair at the back. “That feels better.”

“I’m glad.” Moomintroll stepped away from the chair when he saw Snufkin reach for the broom sitting in a little hidey hole corner of the room, brushing fur off his apron before he wiped his hands and began heating up the frying pan, beginning to spoon the pancake mixture in once it was hot enough as he listened to the sound of his partner sweeping and humming in time behind him.

If you had told Moomintroll years ago that he would be enjoying this kind of domesticated bliss with _Snufkin_ of all people, he would have laughed, mostly due to the fact that he hadn’t even come to terms with his crush on his friend back then. They had danced around each other for so long that, even when they’d moved in together for seventy five percent of the year, it hadn’t occurred to them that it might be okay.

Moomintroll had convinced himself that he was letting Snorkmaiden get over their relationship, even though it had been literal years since their courtship had whittled down to the end like a candle and snuffed out. In truth, he had perhaps not even known how to initiate anything, despite their friends giving them not so subtle nudges in the right direction.

He smiled as he thought of the screech Little My had let out when they revealed they had handfasted at the end of autumn one year before Snufkin’s departure, alone in the forest with, perhaps, only a few creeps as witnesses from the trees and burrows (Snufkin later recounted Teety-Woo giving him his congratulations the following spring to him). The white silken ribbon bows on the end of their tails had been a bit of a giveaway now, he realised, as he flipped the pancake into the air and shuffled it around in the pan before sliding it to the plate next to him and putting the next batch of batter in, tail shifting around behind him still wearing said bow.

“What are your plans today?” Snufkin’s voice broke through his line of thought and Moomintroll looked at him curiously, watching him place his tackle box on the floor and rummage around.

“I thought I’d go foraging,” he responded, looking back at the frying pan and sliding the pancake on to join the others when it was ready. “Then drop by and see Mamma and Pappa for lunch.” Moomintroll turned the oven off and brought their pancakes over, setting Snufkin’s down in front of him. “I see you’ve thought out your plan.”

“It’s the best time to fish, you know this, Moomin.” Snufkin gently dropped the hooks into their compartment and closed his tackle box, nudging it under the table with his foot and reaching to cup his hand over his husband’s, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll come by Mamma and Pappa’s later.”

“I know.” Moomintroll pouted a little, a small whine in his voice, though only for show as he returned the squeeze. “We’re sleeping in tomorrow though.”

“Of course.” Snufkin’s voice was a deep purr, the sound rumbling up through his chest as he ran his thumb over the curve of Moomin’s paw. “I just got up because I was filthy, love. Ran into a park keeper on the way back and waded through a bog to get away after I was done with his signs and fences. I wasn’t letting you sleep with that mess for a minute longer.”

Moomintroll’s ears flicked back and forth on top of his head before they flattened at the news, a small hiss leaving his breath. “Why didn’t you tell me that??”

“Because I knew you’d worry.” The mumrik gave him a toothy grin and released his hand when he felt Moomintroll grip it a bit tighter. “Besides, we were doing much more interesting things than talking if I recall.” He laughed huskily when Moomintroll’s ears went red like his cheeks and he flung jam at him from his fork, letting out a full blown laugh when his husband practically tackled him off his chair.

It was good to be home.


End file.
